


Postcards

by Bravehardt, Foxglove_Fiction



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Friendship/Love, Hurt Stephen Strange, Letters, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Slow Romance, Sweet, Valentine's Day Fluff, stephen strange whump, that escalated quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22762465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bravehardt/pseuds/Bravehardt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxglove_Fiction/pseuds/Foxglove_Fiction
Summary: Late V-Day fic!Tony and Stephen don’t get a lot of time to see one another. Between saving the world, conferences and interdimensional meetings Stephen opts for a much more intimate and fun way of communicating where modern-day technology fails to deliver.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 22
Kudos: 147





	Postcards

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be for Valentine's Day, however, one of us was away on vacation in the days leading up to this so it wound up taking a little longer than planned. It's here now, though!

S:  _ Sounds like I’m going on an interdimensional business trip for a while. I want to say a month, but time flows differently in different dimensions, so I can’t be certain exactly how long it will be. I’m headed out tomorrow. _

With an arm in someone else's hand, a bagel in his mouth and his phone in his other hand, Tony started to peck out a response to Stephen.

Over the past few months, their relationship as friends had started to blossom and it was undetermined who had thrown the first stone - all he knew was that the entirety of their communication had started with claws and fangs and then steadily progressed to verbal jousting to the point of blunt-edged joking back and forth.

The two of them could safely admit they were friends if anything and comrades at worst, but Tony? He considered Stephen to be something more to him whether he chose to openly admit it or not.

Stephen had quickly become an integral part of his life. Their communication, their banter - if it wasn't for Tony’s work, Stephen would be a star and Tony would be a planet in orbit around him.

Sure, Tony flirted with him, and Tony flirted with many other people -  _ back in his glory days. _

Now? He was a spent, aged engineer who'd saved the planet and reached his prime and-then-some, and now the greatest thrill in life for him (to this known point) was texting the very man he used to fight tooth and nail with during their first 'blemishing' interactions.

T:  _ Do you have any idea what this is going to do to me? Who on this planet Earth is going to keep me company during those boning meetings - speaking of, I'm heading to one right now. _

S:  _ Guess you’ll have to fend for yourself. I mean, a ‘boning’ meeting doesn’t sound like the worst thing. Surely you’ll figure something out? _

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! _

Tony's face turned fifty shades of red and he struggled to respond as he was corralled by both Pepper and Happy into the conference room for a meeting he was already late for.

T:  _ I meant BORING, but even if that were the case, you'd be missing out on nearly all the fun. _

S:  _ Oh? Would I? Does this ‘meeting’ mean you won’t have time for lunch today before I go? _

T:  _ Just presenting one of the new models and installations, then I'll be right over, you know I'm never late! _

Tony tapped as he walked into the conference room with gusto and like a switch he was  _ on, _ slapping down his phone and pulling up a holo-prototype blueprint.

Everything was automated for them and he was true to his word, in and out in a flash with his investor's approval - and some time to spare.

He touched down in front of their designated coffee shop, the skeleton of his suit melting away and into his reactor like liquid metal as he stepped through the door and joined Stephen at the table he'd procured for them.

Stephen had already taken the liberties of ordering for him, and to his delight, the drink the sorcerer had gotten for him was still piping hot.

"-and with a couple of minutes to spare," he grinned up at Stephen heartily.

“Were you in a rush?” Stephen smiled warmly from his spot, his hands curled around his London fog as he watched Tony take up his seat. “I’m glad you could make it, regardless. I am going to miss our little get-togethers…”

He gave a soft sigh, tilting his head as he looked to Tony. “How was your meeting?”

"What? Wait, hold the bus for a hot moment, what do you mean you're going to miss our little get-togethers, are you breaking up with me?" Tony turned his head and quirked a brow in Stephen's direction.

"You know, friend - wise?"

“I’m going to miss you while I’m away,” Stephen rolled his eyes, “you drama queen. I’m sure you’ll be able to replace me in no time at all. But good luck finding someone who will bail you out of meetings with emergencies. Real or contrived.”

" _ Hey _ ! They work - okay?  _ Heart-related, _ remember? You being a doctor and all kind of fits the bill," Tony lifted the cup to his lips taking a sip and apparently forgetting it was hot because the cup met the table just as fast as he'd lifted it as a formal distraction.

Trying not to let on that there might be a part of him that swelled with anxiety at the thought of Stephen leaving for  _ any reason _ \- he blurted out his thoughts.

"Where are you going?"

“Dimension hopping, as I mentioned in the text. I guess this whole ‘promotion’ of mine means I have to do the political hoorah of introducing myself to other Sorcerers Supreme in other dimensions as well. To be honest, I’m not a fan,” Stephen frowned down at his cup. 

“I have a lot of concerns about leaving  _ this _ dimension unprotected while I’m away. I don’t know why this is a thing that I’m being pushed to do. Wong will be here, at least, so will many others. It’s just… I have an uneasy feeling about all of this.”

Tony's fingers tightened around his mug and loosened as he felt the heat permeate the pads of his fingers.

"Who am I going to send memes to then? Rhodey-bear is deployed, Pepper has me soft blocked and no-one else seems to share the same sense of humour." Tony threw his head back with a loud groan. "I will quite literally die of boredom, and my blood will be on your hands!"

“Are you telling me Colonel Rhodes doesn’t have a phone while he’s deployed? That you haven’t seen to that?” Stephen smirked slightly over the lip of his cup. “You’re really playing all this up but you haven’t once asked if there’s some way we’ll be able to stay in touch.”

"He ignores me while he's out, and you did make it out like there really wouldn't be - I kind of assumed that you wouldn't have reception. So, is there? The days would seem a whole lot staler if you didn’t," Tony fidgeted anxiously with the mug in his hand, perked and curious about the answer.

“I was making a comment about us not being able to get together like this for lunch. I didn’t say we wouldn’t be able to contact one another. Because I would also be bored and out of contact with like… everyone I know. So…”

Trailing off, Stephen dug into his pocket and produced what looked essentially like a plain hempen sack that got curiously larger as it was pulled from Stephen’s pocket. He offered it to Tony. “A messenger bag. It pairs with one I have on me. You can send letters, but not much else. You put the letter in, I can retrieve it, and vice-versa.”

"For a minute I thought this was turning into a drug deal, and I was about to be seriously concerned." Tony picked up the small bag, it was a rather cute thing with how ordinary and unassuming it was. 

He opened it up and inside it just seemed to be black as he peered in.

"So just like passing notes in class?"

“Yeah. A lot like that,” Stephen smiled. “It’ll take a little more time, of course. Things are going to transfer at odd times because of the time delay, and so it may be that I respond right away, or it may take a little while before you get a response. And I mean, depending on how busy I am and the like as well.

“With that said, it doesn’t accept other things. If you were to say, put your phone in it…” the sorcerer reached with his own phone and dropped it. Despite the bottom of the bag clearly being sealed, the phone fell through entirely. Stephen collected it up again. “It’s not going to work.”

"Surprisingly specific," Tony reached over grabbing a napkin and scrawling something quickly onto it before folding it up and chucking it through the sack.

He smiled innocently, waiting for the message to transfer through.

Stephen stuck his hand in his pocket and fished around for a moment before pulling out the napkin pointedly. “Napkin works, apparently,” he chuckled, briefly unfolding it to take a look at it before letting out an amused snort and setting the crudely drawn stick-figure of a wizard on the table. “Voila, like magic. Or something like that.”

"It is magic though, isn't it? It couldn't possibly be anything else, not some cheap misdirection prank," Tony challenged for argument's sake and was rewarded with an eye-roll from his company on the other side of the table.

“Yes, it’s magic. Old, complicated magic, but magic. I’m still learning how it works personally,” Stephen shrugged a shoulder lightly. “Regardless, we know it works, and it works on an interdimensional basis. So… at least it won’t be complete radio silence.”

Tony handled the small sack with both hands, he felt some semblance of relief as he tucked it away, seemingly shrinking with his intention of storing it.

"Thank god, you would not believe how stir-crazy I would go without someone to bounce insults off of."

“If that’s the plan, I’m rethinking loaning you that,” the sorcerer huffed a little laugh, finishing off his tea.

“Nope, too late - you’ve sealed your fate!”

Stephen shook his head. “This has been nice, but… I should probably get going. Do my packing and such… Keep that close, will you? And keep in touch.”

Tony had to resist the urge to reach out and stop Stephen, grab his arm as if wanting to steal some sort of affection on instinct.

He showed restraint, offering up a fond smile in return, rather.

"I won't. I'd tell you the same but you know I'd only be attempting to be punny," he wriggled his brows with the eye-rolling joke.

“I’d say I’ll miss you, but who knows? This might be a peaceful vacation,” Stephen offered a sly smirk in response, before waving and heading out, leaving Tony and the remnants of his coffee.

"You wound me to my core Stephen!" Tony called behind him with a mock hurt expression as he leaned up onto his palms on the table.

Sad to see the other go, Tony spent some time in the coffee shop examining the small bag once again until he decided it was time to head back.

The week that followed was one of the most arduous Tony endured in a while. 

Weighed down by work and tugged like a lazy dog on a leash into meeting after meeting, he fingered the small bag, beside himself whether or not he wanted to reach out to Stephen.

His fingers would twitch in anticipation, revisiting the terms of their little exchange in his head and quite well knowing Stephen had gifted this unique relic to him for the time being for the exact purpose of keeping in contact.

He may have been waiting for Stephen to reach out first? It was uncharacteristic of Tony who was normally in Stephen's face through texts or emails (in whatever plausible way) haranguing him with memes and stupid messages as if the space input on his phone had been replaced with an enter key.

It was the first trip of the second week when he was on a jet to Korea to give a speech at one of the universities that he pulled out the bag and grabbed one of the napkins tucked into the seat holder beside him.

With the nervous disposition of a teenager asking the attractive girl in his class out to prom, he crafted a short message and before he could give it a second thought to perhaps stop himself in his anxious mental fit, he held his breath and nudged the napkin into the bag. 

It instantly disappeared.

T:  _ 38,000 feet in the air but not on mine. _

* * *

A new dimension. A new Sorcerer Supreme.

Having recently been officially named Sorcerer Supreme of his dimension, Stephen had been sent to tour around various dimensions and introduce himself in his new role to the Sorcerers Supreme of various other dimensions. There was a lot to consider as he did so, and the thought never left him that he had to somehow live up to the Ancient One’s example - someone they would have known and respected.

But she was wiser than him. Smarter. More calm and collected. More suited to this role.

It was a weird sensation being there, and not only for the psychological significance. The gravity was different on this planet, and he knew there were already accommodations being made specifically to allow him to breathe properly on this planet. The sorcerers of this dimension had helped him change into something more formal for the meeting before escorting him to their meeting place.

He hadn’t expected it to be on a rock in the middle of some sort of river. He wondered if Tony would be able to determine what the river was composed of based on its pinkish-red hue, or if the man would be too busy being fascinated by the fact that the whole cliffside appeared to be composed of some sort of porous malachite-like green rock.

He was tempted to send a sample back but knew well enough that the bag wouldn’t allow for that.

Even from the chambers he was staying in there was a glorious view of the bizarre surroundings, and he snapped a couple of pictures to show Tony when he eventually returned home. Reclining on a jelly-like ‘chair’ he dug around in the bag to see if Tony had written him at all yet, smiling as his fingers touched something not-quite like paper.

He had no idea what he was supposed to make of the words written on the napkin, however.

S:  _ You’re flying? Or are we playing some secret agent game? As for me, I’m growing steadily more certain that the world I’m currently on is as close to habitable by humans as they know of here but I’m still pretty sure drinking the water is ill-advised. It’s pink. _

* * *

It took a couple hours’ time for Stephen's response to come through and conveniently so when Tony was sitting down in a meeting where the letter was pulled out discreetly under the table.

There was a small smirk on the engineer's face as he scrawled his response, encapsulating the ambiance of the moment on a cue card which he'd come into the habit of carrying around with him since the plane ride.

T:  _ I was, but not anymore. Rather, stuck in a concrete cage watching frenzied sharks in chum-soaked waters. _ What followed was a picture of a stick man holding a dollar-bill with a bunch of men with hats on with sharp teeth.

_ 'It's not the same without you here'  _ was scrawled on the back of the note, where the pen seemed to get messier as if the inscription was rushed.

* * *

It was days later by Stephen’s time that the letter appeared, being fished out while Stephen was having a breakfast of things he couldn’t name, left to his own devices the day before he was set to move on. He chuckled to himself a little at Tony’s drawing, shaking his head a bit.

S:  _ You know, I envy you. At least once you get out there are burgers waiting for you. I’m not sure what I’ve got on my plate, in more ways than one. If anyone can handle some sharks, though, it would be you. Go get ‘em! _

The note was tucked into his pocket, with the back of the note unread.

* * *

Tony smiled, standing in his boxers and getting ready to slide into bed when the bag twitched and he reached in to prod around for a letter.

T: _You know I love a good cheeseburger, but lately_ _I’ve been in the mood for seafood, which means I'll have to take you to see the waterfront with me sometime in Malibu. I heard you were a fan of sweet things, we could eat cake by the ocean._

The letter was folded delicately - near-perfectly corner-to-corner, edge-to-edge - and sent carefully through the bag.

* * *

Stephen was exhausted.

The planet of the Sorcerer Supreme in this dimension had three suns, and none of them were the yellow dwarf stars that he was used to. In fact, two were binary blue giant stars, with a red dwarf sister being sustained by the Sorcerer Supreme’s magic, as it turned out.

Stephen hadn’t even considered that a possibility. But the suns were distinctly bright, in any case, only briefly dimmed by the passing of their red dwarf cousin, for maybe three hours a day. Many of the peoples of this planet lived underground, though there was a race of people living on the surface who did just fine for themselves, being fully adapted to these cycles.

The Sorcerer Supreme was one of those. Stephen was not. So he had been given a unique containment room that was used for various foreign visitors who were unable to deal with their surface, without entirely delving into the underground where most of the people were perfectly comfortable seeing in the dark and didn’t supply light at all.

He’d reread Tony’s other notes a couple of times, now, finding what he’d missed last time and relieved to receive a new message. He carefully scrawled a response.

S:  _ Are we talking about a fish cake? I don’t think those are sweet unless it’s a cake shaped like fish. But to be honest, at this point anything I could name would be bliss. My stomach is disagreeing with some of the foods I’m eating. I can’t wait to be home. Turns out, I do miss you. _

* * *

It was some time before the message had made it to Tony, and it happened to be when he was just about to give a presentation to one of his sister companies.

The engineer seemed distracted through the entire ordeal and, once sat, had members of the board room looking over his shoulder.

He then scrawled his message down in response, though this time it seemed much more cryptic.

T:  _ Two cups sugar, one cup cream, three parts spice, everything else seems nice. Bake for three hours on high. _

There was a space and then in smaller writing at the bottom of the napkin.

_ Counting down the minutes. _

He tucked the message into the bag.

* * *

“I recognize that bag… we have something like it here. Do you have a mate waiting for you?”

“Nothing quite so glamorous, I’m afraid,” Stephen responded as he finished up with his note, tucking it into a bag. “Just a dear friend who is exceedingly bored at all times. I’m not certain our relationship is… quite like that,” he added with a chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad you have some way of keeping in touch with them,” Yarlax smiled in return. “Shall we find some souvenirs to bring back for them? Myen loves when I bring gifts back from my trips.”

“That… sounds like a nice reprieve, to be honest.”

* * *

The next note came in, and he felt his heart leap as he picked the message out of his bag and read it. 

S:  _ Stop making me crave sweets, will you? Since you’re having fun with little asides… should I be more subtle in my future notes?  _ _   
_ _ Fly me high through the starry skies,  _ _   
_ _ maybe to an astral plane -  _ _   
_ _ cross the highways of fantasy… _

Tony tucked the note away with the rest Stephen had sent.

He'd stored each one of them in a box beside his bed, often reading through them, they would help ease him into an easier slumber.

His fondness had only grown for the sorcerer, and he could safely admit at this time he was surely smitten with the man he communicated with across literal time and space. 

It was a long time since he'd felt the invigorating sensation of his heart racing in excitement at the prospect of receiving a message. He couldn't help but smile when he read it, thumb brushing over the words.

He sat down and quickly scrawled out his message, understanding their time-sensitive situation.

T:  _ Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth _ _   
_ _ And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; _ _   
_ _ Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth _ _   
_ _ of sun-split clouds — and done a hundred things you _ _   
_ _ have not dreamed of. _

_ You're on. _

* * *

The skies on this new planet reminded him of a song. They were vibrantly red and the sun shone through a thick atmosphere, making the paper Tony had written on look more orange than white. Stephen sat on a balcony with the magical equivalent of a respirator on, tracing his fingers over the words.

It was hard to imagine what kind of hundred things Tony thought he hadn’t dreamed of given the vistas he’d seen and the numerous entities he didn’t know how to describe. The air here almost sparkled - which was a sure sign breathing it was a bad idea, though he’d been informed that it shouldn’t do anything to the rest of him as long as he didn’t inhale it.

Tomorrow he left again… four more dimensions, and finally he could go home.

S:  _ Bursting through a blood-red sky _ _   
_ _ A slow landslide _ _   
_ _ And the world we leave behind _ _   
_ _ It’s enough to lose your head _ _   
_ _ Disappear and not return again. _

* * *

Tony furrowed his brow, distracted during his lunch with Colonel Rhodes as the bag vibrated to herald the arrival of yet another message. He seemed slightly concerned with the response in the final part of the paragraph.

He had to stare at the note, making an odd face as he attempted to decipher the inscription.

Rhodey peered over his shoulder curiously as Tony turned to block his friend from seeing the note, quickly stuffing it into his pocket.

"I'll be back in a second." Tony nodded his head as if listening to a song.

T:  _ Everything has changed, I know _ _   
_ _ It's like it ain't the same no more _ _   
_ _ Used to ride the fast lane, shotgun! _ _   
_ _ Now I'm in the backseat, caught up. _

* * *

He didn’t know what was going on around him anymore. It was a mess. Everything was a mess. His body ached, and he was covered in guts and gore, dizzy beyond words.

There was no Sorcerer Supreme here. Not anymore. He’d arrived in the middle of an attack and been too late to save many of the sorcerers of this dimension… at least those on this world. He sunk back against a wall, his hands shaking more than usual and his ability to write considerably worse for wear. 

There was no guarantee Tony would be able to read his attempted writing, and he wasn’t altogether certain how ‘subtle’ his writing was. He nearly dropped the subtlety entirely…

S:  _ When the full moon turns white, that's when I'll come home _ _   
_ _ I am going out to see what I can sow _ _   
_ _ And I don't know where I'll go _ _   
_ _ And I don't know what I'll see _ _   
_ _ But I'll try not to bring it back home with me. _

As he tucked it in the bag he didn’t notice the smudges of blood he left on the paper.

* * *

Tony managed to get this one much sooner than expected which came as a relief. The message came through and he opened it up, his chest squeezing with the reception of the message.

It had been roughly a couple weeks since he'd received anything, and he’d started to grow worried with the time lapses. The time in between messages was expanding and each time brought the same amount of concern. The messages also sounding more dire and much more cryptic.

He had nothing but time to think about Stephen's health, his whereabouts and when he'd return, and so artfully crafted his next response like Romeo and Juliet making contact in the night.

T:  _ Monday always comes around _ _   
_ _ And it's sad cause I can't see you now _ _   
_ _ Want you to know you're always in my head. _

* * *

For a time it was quiet. Weeks passed without a note from Stephen, weeks that Tony spent waiting for word from the sorcerer between meetings, checking the bag in the middle of the night restlessly.

Nothing.

There was no sign.

The silence dragged on for almost a full month before an unknown number sent a simple text.

U:  _ Come to the Sanctum. _

Tony was suited up and out the door in half a second, on the steps in less than five.

He walked up the stoop to the Sanctum which opened to let him in without pause and he stepped inside the dark entryway and looked around.

"Stephen?" his voice echoed as he clanked over the tiles in his suit, worry in his voice, heart beating in his chest like he'd just run a marathon.

“Ah, Stark,” Wong appeared at the top of the stairs, looking at him. “Quietly, now. He asked for you, but… he’s still recovering. This way,” he waved for the man to join him. “He returned about two days ago. He was conscious for about an hour earlier. But not much longer than that. He isn’t terribly well.”

Tony's jaw tightened and the suit folded back into its housing as he ascended the stairs after Wong, not a word spoken as he simply followed the man to Stephen's room.

He exchanged glances with the librarian who nodded at the door before he carefully turned the knob and slowly entered the room.

He was still concerned - Stephen had gone radio silent for a month and the only message he'd gotten was a brief four-word text, bland as white rice.

"Stephen...?" He kept his voice low, just above a whisper as he approached the bedside where he saw the sorcerer's recumbent form in the dark.

“He has some sort of radiation poisoning, I think,” Wong explained, making his way to Stephen’s bedside. “Not any kind of radiation I’m experienced with, however. This isn’t something that I can easily figure out with magic, and I’m not a doctor. Stephen suggested it might have been something to do with the sun on the planet of the last world he was on, and his lack of protection due to an attack.

“He’s injured,” the sorcerer continued, “but that’s healing well enough on its own, as is the magic drain which seems to have affected the cloak a little as well. The cloak, however, is back to its usual self. I’m reasonably confident Stephen will recover but… right now he’s not well.”

“You’re loud,” Stephen groaned a bit at Wong, shifting slightly in his spot to look at the glow of the reactor. “Mmm… you made it. You owe me cake.”

“I suppose I should mention, he has complained of little else. Cake and burgers.”

"Fri?"

"I'm detecting some mild radiation poisoning, superficial from overexposure to the sun as mentioned. Perhaps some potassium iodide will help it clear right up boss."

"I'll get him some antibiotics for that, if it's just from the sun then it might not be bad. I'm no doctor, and I don't mean that as a pun." Tony instinctively reached over to rest his palm on Stephen's forearm.

He was in problem-solving mode. Being concerned about Stephen was a thing, but being anxious could wait, for as much as it tore him apart to see his companion like this.

"What on earth happened?" Tony's head snapped to Wong after Friday had given him a further diagnostic of the sorcerer's current state.

A couple of light fractures in his arms, his hands were inflamed and there were welts and lacerations littering his body that Tony really only got to glance as he pitifully wrestled the blanket away from Stephen to check out.

"You," Tony started, Stephen vaguely turned his head towards him with whatever strength he could muscle in his fatigued state, "don't get cake until you've rested up. I'm going back to grab some stuff from the lab, alright bud?"

Wong sat quietly as he allowed Stephen to explain for himself, turning on a low light and sitting back.

“I just… arrived. There was fighting when I got there so no one was able to help me acclimatize the way I expected I was supposed to. I didn’t have any gear, there were just… people dying. I barely knew who the sorcerers were and who were their adversaries…” Stephen sighed. “They lost their Sorcerer Supreme, so… I stepped in to do what I could. As you can see… that went wonderfully since I am not dead.”

"You seem to just love to take a beating." The engineer's hand tensed on Stephen's shoulder and he stood up straight, letting go as he nodded over to the other sorcerer.

"You think you could open up a portal to the compound Wong?" He pulled out his phone to show the librarian the exact location.

"Of course, how much time do you need?"

"Five minutes and I'll have everything I need, Friday's already gathered the supplies, I just have to go and get them." The other sorcerer nodded doing as requested and it was exactly as planned before Tony returned with everything he needed to help expedite Stephen's recovery.

For the next week, Tony tended to Stephen as he recovered. When Stephen was conscious he would make quips about Tony using him as an excuse to skip out on meetings - and Tony was clear that he’d done that plenty of times before when it was less necessary.

Sure, with radiation Bruce might have been a better doctor for Stephen, but this wasn’t about who was a better doctor for him. Tony wanted to be near him. Tony wanted to stay with him. He’d known that for months.

The first day that Stephen was able to eat properly the sorcerer stared at the plate of ‘hospital food’ with disdain. 

“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?” he grumbled a bit, and Tony shrugged a shoulder.

“I don’t want you making yourself sick with grease when you’ve been having trouble stomaching even liquids.”

“Do you know how long I’ve been craving a burger?”

“I still have all the notes, I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“I hate you right now.”

"Get in line, that’s everyone else's attitude, way to be original,” the engineer rolled his eyes and nudged the aluminum-wrapped hoagy into the sorcerer's lap. ”Congratulations, you've graduated from broths and liquids to solids. Just be glad I'm not feeding you the stuff I cook anymore. Frankly, I'm hurt that you would say something like that after all I've done to make sure you've been given only the best!" Tony tapped his chest, feigning hurt feelings. 

"Yes, I'm sure having your cooking would have been counterproductive at best." Stephen gently pulled back the aluminum wrap with a sigh. 

Tony took a seat, leaning over in his chair. "If you want, I can cut it up into cute little sandwich squares for you," he teased softly.

“You’re being a brat,” the sorcerer responded. “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me while I eat? Don’t you have something to eat yourself or something?”

“I could, but my priority is making sure you get some food into you, I’m not the one struggling with malnourishment. Now, shut up and eat up.”

Stephen sighed, looking at the sandwich before taking a small bite of it. He was sitting up in bed with his back against the headboard and the tray of food in his lap. He looked considerably less pale lately, though there were still some burns on his face from the radiation. It looked like a serious sunburn in specific spots that had been bared, but it was an improvement over the welts and blisters he’d been sporting before.

Stephen still needed plenty of sleep, and predictably after a meal, despite Stephen's indignation at being bedridden the entire time, he tended to doze off after Tony brought him a hot cup of tea like an infant with a soother. 

He took the time then to covertly apply burn ointment to the welts on his face, dabbing lightly at the wounds with care - often wrestling Stephen until the man gave up due to his lack of strength.

Eventually, the industrial giant that was Stark Industries needed it's figurative king back on its almost literal throne to run it again, and he had things to do with the Avengers. Tony reluctantly had to leave Stephen's side.

Life returned to normal, and albeit texting was a thing again between them, Tony missed having the physical copies of letters in hand to read, like letters from one's lover - they were neatly tucked away in a box, cherished, and looked over before sleep each night.

Peaceful dreams usually followed.

T:  _ How's sleeping beauty today? Hope you can get by without your handsome prince charming there looking after you. _

Tony pecked a message out, and he received no response for the rest of the day, going with his first instinctive thought that Stephen was probably busy catching up with his own work in the Sanctum after being out for so long.

And he was fine with that train of thought for the time being.

Stephen continued to not respond for a couple of days following, and Tony was finding that meetings in Malaysia were fucking terrible because he couldn’t simply hop over to the Sanctum to check what was going on. He hadn’t heard from Wong about anything being wrong, but Wong wasn’t always there to keep an eye on the sorcerer, either.

The anxiety built, and Tony found himself considerably more anxious during his meetings than he could easily explain. “A dear friend is ill,” was the best he could manage to explain some of his behaviours even as he sent a few more texts out to try and check up on the man, continuing to receive radio silence.

There was no way that Stephen had been too busy for a week and a half straight to respond to a text. Even the one time he’d called it went to voicemail, leaving him sitting anxiously and staring at his phone after.

What if things had taken a turn for the worse? What if there’d been an attack? What if Stephen wasn’t eating? What if Stephen really  _ did _ need him to take care of him?

And he wasn’t there.

His fingers twitched restlessly, tapping on the table in the most irritating manner. 

He couldn't put the meeting off, nor could it be rescheduled, it might take him thirty-minutes to make it back to New York if he went as fast as he possibly could.

It might drain the reactor excessively, but he could do it, it would recharge.

He could make it, fuck he needed to.

_ But what if... _

What if Stephen was fine? What if he was just burdening himself and the sorcerer by flying all the way there? What if he wasn't even at the Sanctum? That could have been a possibility.

Tony quite often asked himself if he saw a potential future with Stephen, even if it wasn't one they shared, but one they simply occupied together.

It was good enough for him, he hadn't even asked the man out yet...

Maybe he should?

Maybe he should.

He should go check on him, if he lost one investor it was hardly a nick in the company’s budget, Stark Industries was a giant, and one man's life was worth more than any millions, especially this man.

Then when Stephen was better, he'd finally spill.

"Family emergency, sorry - I need to go, now," Tony excused himself, suiting up. He took off using every ounce of energy, pushing his suit to the nth degree as he torpedoed to the Sanctum, heart pounding in his throat. 

He was there in half an hour, walking through the doors in a rush and up to Stephen's room where he held his breath, on the brink of a meltdown.

He was lightheaded, dizzy from a near panic attack.

As he opened the door, his anxiety left his throat tight and he steadied his breath. 

_ The room was empty. _

He turned in his spot, shifting from foot to foot as he tried to figure out where to check next.

“Stephen?” he called - he thought it was soft, but the way it echoed back to him told him it was louder than he’d anticipated.

The cloak made an appearance, flitting around him calmly before heading towards the stairs to the third floor, and Tony followed after it quickly, reaching the top of the stairs to find Stephen facing away from him, floating in lotus position... 

Meditating?

Tony hesitated briefly before following the cloak in as it settled on Stephen’s shoulders again. An odd aura seemed to surround the sorcerer, and Friday quickly confirmed that it was some sort of energy. Magic, she assumed - a fair assumption given where they were and who they were talking about.

He was beside himself on whether or not to disrupt Stephen. After all, he'd come here of his own volition thinking that something was wrong - and at the moment his nerves had been alleviated some, but he wasn't quite sure they would settle entirely until he heard the man's voice.

He reached a hand out before he gave it another thought, palm to the man's indigo slacks on his thigh as he gently squeezed Stephen's leg to try and rouse him.

"Stephen...?" he called once and didn't get any response. The cloak kept its guise of being an inanimate object up quite well as it didn't seem to stop him from anything.

He bit his lip, wondering what he'd even say once Stephen was… back? Especially if there really was nothing wrong. 

Coming all the way to the Sanctum for absolutely no reason - in Stephen's mind at least would be something to explain.

_ But there was a reason,  _ at least for him.

It meant everything to him to know Stephen was alright, and being the stubborn ass that Tony was, he shook the meditating man again, this time with a little more persistence.

"Stephen, hey, you there?"

“Hm?” Stephen jolted a little in his spot, catching himself and stumbling a little as he stood again with the cloak’s help. Turning slightly, he offered Tony a slightly dazed and confused look for a moment. “Tony? Back so soon? What brings you here?”

His face seemed somewhat pale, and the aura that had surrounded him dissipated as soon as he was standing. He didn’t seem steady on his feet, but he seemed not unlike someone who had been asleep moments before as he looked around blearily.

"Will you marry me?" Tony clapped a hand over his mouth, heart racing in his ears. He took a few steps back, watching as Stephen still seemed to try and comprehend exactly where he was and most of all and exactly what was going on.

"- I meant," Tony started to trip over his words, face red, a literal stark comparison to Stephen's pale disposition. "-I want to take you out, go on a date, would you...?"

“Yes,” Stephen tilted his head, watching the man with slight amusement. “Of course I will. What brought all this about? Are you alright?”

Tony turned red in the face. His reaction in all consideration could have been considered priceless.

"I-" he started, now just as confused as Stephen, not sure whether to press for clarity or continue with an explanation.

He had a lot of questions.

"I was worried, I'd sent you texts and you didn't respond… I thought..."

“Texts? When?” Stephen looked around a bit, managing to fish out his phone and look at the date. “Oh… oh wow, I didn’t think I was meditating that long… I’m sorry, Tony. I was struggling a bit with magic depletion. I needed to sort of… ground and centre myself with- ah, sorry, that’s all technical.”

He turned to face Tony and took his hands. “The point is, I’m sorry I made you worry. I’m okay. I mean, I’m pretty hungry and could go for a burger,” he prompted with a sly smile, “but I’m okay.”

"I know it's not very traditional, but I'll make an exception for this one time. After that, it's back to salads and sandwiches for you buddy." Tony cracked a weak smile, feeling as if the weight of the world had shifted from his shoulders.

Stephen was fine, and recovering - a little pale but now  _ balance was restored to the universe _ and everything was as it should be.

He gently reached for Stephen’s hand, curling his fingers into it, holding it as delicately as a dove.

"So… what part of what I'd asked earlier did you say yes to?"

**Author's Note:**

> All credits where due, here are the quoted poems and songs from the story:  
> Stephen: "Dreamweaver" by Gary Wright, "Underwater" by MIKA, "Full Moon" by The Black Ghosts  
> Tony: "Cake by the Ocean" by DNCE, "Moves Like Jaeger" by Maroon 5, "High Flight" by John Gillespie Magee
> 
> The story itself was inspired by "Postcards" by James Blunt, and the ending for this story was actually inspired by the story of Paul Bettany (the voice of JARVIS, and the actor for Vision) and Jennifer Connelly (KAREN's voice actress) getting engaged, very loosely. We hope you enjoyed!
> 
> This story was co-written by two authors from start to finish. You can find us on Twitter:
> 
> [Amy (Foxglove)](https://twitter.com/marvelwizardmom)  
> [Astral (Bravehardt)](https://twitter.com/Kraionis)


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